


Mel's Kinktober 2020

by ever_enthralled



Category: Haikyuu!!, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Age Difference, Breeding, Daddy Kink, F/M, Face-Sitting, Multi, Omorashi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26753977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ever_enthralled/pseuds/ever_enthralled
Summary: A healthy mix of my favorite fandoms and some of my favorite kinks.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu/Miya Osamu/Reader, Mike Zacharias/Reader, Reiner Braun/Reader, Sasaki Mirai | Sir Nighteye/Reader, Shinsou Hitoshi/Reader, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor/Reader, Tsukishima Kei/Reader
Comments: 33
Kudos: 524





	1. Day 1: omorashi | Sir Nighteye

**Author's Note:**

> i heavily considered breaking these up into the three different fic compilations i already have for these fandoms but decided against it. better they're all in one place. hope y'all enjoy~

Your pathetic whimper does nothing to get you the attention you so desire, the man behind the desk refusing to glance up no matter how many pitiful sounds you make. 

You squirm, tug at your restraints, rattle the cuffs so that the single metal rings holding them in place clink against the hard surface behind you. 

But still, nothing. 

You’re at least glad he turned the machine off, the feathers at your side unmoving now save for when they catch the wind from the AC and gently brush over your ribs. It isn’t enough to cause the same panicky discomfort as before, but… Another issue is very quickly arising, one you were fearful of the moment Mirai strapped you into his torture device in the first place. 

You need to pee. 

You’ve been trying not to acknowledge the pressure in your bladder that’s been building, but it’s becoming impossible to ignore. The cool air on your naked body isn’t helping, every inch of you covered in goosebumps. You can probably hold it for a while longer, but you’d really rather not. Besides, you have no idea how long Mirai plans to keep you all bound up. 

Wishing you could clench your thighs together, you chew on your bottom lip and wriggle more, the cuffs at the bottom of the machine keeping you spread out the way Mirai likes you best. Another few whimpers, a louder whine, then you finally break and voice, “Mirai." 

He grunts in response. 

"Sir, I-I need you to let me out.”

“Rude little girls don’t get to be let out.”

“But…” You pout, pull at the restraints again. “I need to use the bathroom.”

He finally looks up at you then, straightens from his hunched over position and tilts his head to the side. “That’s very unfortunate.”

“It doesn’t have to be if you’d unlock—" 

_"Ah,”_ he begins in a warning tone, holds one large hand up. “You wouldn’t be telling me what to do, now would you?" 

Blinking at him, you shift again. You’re beginning to get hot with the need for release. 

"N-no, Sir.”

He rises then, takes two graceful steps around his desk as he rolls his sleeves up, then approaches you. “Do you trust me?" 

You feel your lips part as you look him up and down, all sharp angles and impossibly long limbs. 

"Yes.” Of course you trust him. He hasn’t given you a single reason not to. 

“Good. I’d like to try something new.”

Your stomach flips. The last time he said that, you were edged for hours, nearly passed out when Mirai finally let you come. It was a fantastic experience all-in-all, but fuck, it had taken so much out of you. If he has anything like that planned for you today… 

Eying him skeptically, you ask, “What might that be?" 

One corner of Mirai’s mouth twitches up into a very small, very brief smirk that only serves to make you more nervous which, in turn, makes that tight feeling between your hips increase. 

"Okay, well, can we try it after I pee?” You question further, but the only response you get is Mirai closing distance between the both of you as he sucks two of his own fingers into his mouth. 

Eyes widening, you begin to shake your head, already knowing that this is a bad idea. “S-Sir, don’t, I'll—" 

But he just pops the digits out of his mouth and slips them between your open legs. The second you feel them on your clit, you shudder, thighs quivering as you clench your muscles as hard as you can. You already feel close to bursting, and this is not helping at all. 

Mirai is methodical as he strokes over the bundle, watching his own hand and the way you tremble before raising his gaze to your face, humming appreciatively at your unfocused eyes and the way your bottom jaw juts forward. 

"It’s okay, love, you can let go.”

“I—I—” you stutter, trying to form a coherent thought but only coming up with, _“Embarrassing.”_

He shushes you, rubbing tighter circles for a few seconds before slipping his fingers into your tight pussy. You are not surprised when he immediately grazes your g-spot, but you still lurch forward as far as you can, crying out as he pushes against it. 

“Fuck, Sir!" 

The tight pressure in your bladder grows with each thrust of those long fingers, hotter and hotter, and you give Mirai a pleading look as your whole body shakes from the way your muscles are seizing up. You’re clamped tightly around him, but it does nothing to stop the glide of his hand. 

You’re seeing stars, tension mounting, but you can't—you can't—

Mirai’s other hand is suddenly on your pelvis, turned so that the heel of his palm is against your lower belly, and he begins pushing gently, more or less kneading your bladder from the outside. 

Your jaw drops further. Tears form in your eyes, and you feel—

"Come on, darling, just relax,” Mirai coos. His tone changes dramatically, however, when you shake your head quickly. Your face flushes with embarrassment. You know it’s inevitable at this point, and that alone has you mortified. Light eyes narrow, and Mirai’s voice is deeper when he commands, “Do it. Make a mess like the slut you are.”

Your clit throbs under his touch, shameful arousal flooding your system. The urge to pee isn’t the only scalding sensation inside of you anymore, another need presenting itself. 

Mirai’s assault on your g-spot paired with the way he pushes harder against your stomach finally sends you over. You can’t hold back any longer, just hang your head and go slack in the restraints as warm liquid gushes from you, dripping down your thighs and forming a puddle beneath you. You groan and sniffle, cringing as you stare down at your release. Worst of all is the fact that Mirai doesn’t stop—just keeps rubbing your spot and massaging your stomach, and it feels so good, but it also prolongs everything, urine pushed from you with every thrust, dribbling from that tiny hole and running down Mirai’s hand and forearm. 

“Good girl,” he purrs, ceasing his ministrations after what feels like far too long. He lightly strokes over your belly, looking satisfied, bordering on smug. “Made a mess just like I told you to.”

“Didn’t really have a choice,” you mumble, head still low in shame. 

His clean hand trails up your body until he reaches your chin, and Mirai uses two fingers to tip your face to look at him. His expression is darker than you expected, and you swallow. You must have said the wrong thing. 

"Keep up the bratty attitude, and I’ll make you do it again. Don’t forget who’s in charge." 

You swallow and nod dumbly because he’s right. He’s in charge—always has been. You’d do anything he tells you to. 

Mirai drags his thumb over your lips, tsks, then steps away and walks back to his desk, getting comfortable in his chair. You want to protest, beg him to let you out of your restraints, but the words, on the tip of your tongue, turn to squeals instead when Mirai clicks a button on his remote and turns his machine on again.


	2. Day 2: somnophilia | Kei Tsukishima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW:** non-con, drugged sex, degradation, cheating (not on reader)

“Hey, I’m going out.” Kei looks up from his phone at the sound of Akiteru’s voice, sees his brother already shrugging on a jacket. 

“Is what’s-her face not going with you?” He questions, though the answer is clear as you’re nowhere in sight. 

Akiteru shakes his head and strides to the front door, grabbing his keys from the little catch-all. “Nah, she wasn’t feeling well and took some medicine that knocked her out. She knows I’m leaving, though.”

Kei tunes out anything else his brother says, just returns his gaze to his phone and mindlessly scrolls until he hears the door open and close. Then, he’s alone again. 

Home from university over winter break, Kei has been constantly surrounded by family and friends. It’s irksome. He’s always enjoyed his solitude. On campus, it’s easy to throw out an excuse—need to study, upcoming project—but it’s much harder to do that at his mother’s house. There are no exams to prepare for, no papers or presentations, just Kei and his family and his phone that’s been set to ‘Do Not Disturb for six days now.

Though, on the bright side, there is also _you_. Akiteru’s new girlfriend. Apparently, the two of you have been dating for a few months, but this holiday is Kei’s first time meeting you. You live in the next prefecture over, are currently staying with the Tsukishimas for a couple weeks before bringing Akiteru to stay with you at your parents’ house. That’s the plan, anyway. Not that he’ll show any outward signs, but Kei will lament the loss. 

You’re nice—too smart for Akiteru despite being a couple years younger than him, witty and a little goofy, not to mention very cute. You can hold your own in conversation with Kei, grew comfortable with him right off the bat much to his pleasure. You allow him to tease and condescend to his heart’s content, only push your lips out in a little pout when he does, but your eyes still shine with mirth when you narrow them in his direction.

You’re good company—fun and sweet, and Kei likes you. He likes you too much, far more than he should considering one, he hasn’t known you for long, and two, you’re his older brother’s girlfriend.

Still, both you and Akieteru remain oblivious to his growing affections (for lack of a better word), though Kei isn’t sure how long that ignorance will last. College has shot his self-control to shit. He’s been experimenting with all manner of sex and drugs, and right now, he’s ready to experiment again. 

Kei waits another few minutes, mind growing foggy with his own unwise plans until he starts to feel too hot just sitting on the couch in the living room. It’s already late, past ten PM, and his mother has been asleep for a while. That just leaves Kei—too awake as he makes his way to the back of the house, stripping out of his pants and shirt in his own room before quietly making his way to his brother’s. 

When he slowly opens the door, the light from the hallway spills into the darkness, a sliver of gold illuminating the bed as well as the form on top of it. Only half covered by the sheet, Kei takes in your baggy shirt—Akiteru’s, probably—your messy hair and slack expression. You’re on your side, one arm under the pillow beneath you, the other curled in front of your chest. Both legs bent at the knee, one sticks out from the blanket, completely bare all the way to your hip, and Kei gnaws on his lower lip at the implication. 

There is a very brief moment of lucidity where he asks himself if this is a good idea. The answer is obvious. No, it’s not. This is the furthest thing from a good idea. 

But, it’s been a few weeks since Kei has engaged in any risky behavior, so he’s desperate and horny, still a little stoned from the last time he _‘stepped out to his car’_ , and you… You are just too good to pass up. 

This isn’t something he’s ever done before, and the alarm bell that is his conscience is blaring in his head as Kei steps into the room, silently shutting the door behind him. The only noise is the fan whirring above and his own heartbeat, footsteps inaudible as he carries himself over to the bed. 

Your breathing is heavy and deep, accented by very soft, purr-like snores that only confirm what Kei already knew. You are out like a light. 

There is no movement when he reaches the mattress. No movement when he spreads himself out behind you. No movement when he slips his hand under the blanket and strokes your thigh. 

Your skin is warm and supple beneath the pads of his fingers, pliant and forgiving to his touch. It feels good. You feel good. So, Kei presses closer—his chest to your back, slotting his hips against your ass and shutting his eyes at the pressure. He’s already half hard— _disgusting, you’re disgusting_ —but he can’t help himself, just rubs his covered cock over the swell of your cheeks, and fuck, you aren’t wearing any underwear at all. Kei trails his hand up your thigh, dancing over your hip before gently stroking your bare pelvis. He can feel a line of short hair, smirks into the back of your head and suppresses his groan as he pictures what he just _knows_ is a perfectly manicured landing strip.

You shift in his hold, and Kei freezes, heart sinking in his chest as his blood turns icy—waiting, waiting… All you do is open yourself up, the arm in front of your chest dropping, your legs scissoring further apart, and Kei almost laughs. Almost. 

He allows himself to explore under your shirt, the curves of your waist and your smooth stomach until he brushes the underside of your breasts. Kei breathes through his open mouth, silent as he toys with you, never roughly, nothing to jar you into consciousness, just soft brushes over your nipples until they pebble under his fingers. He wants to lick and suck on the buds, wants to roll you onto your back and peer down at you, how fucking beautiful you are, but he can’t risk it. 

Instead, he moves his hand back down your body, lower than before. Kei pauses for a moment, eyes unfocused as he gazes over your head at nothing in particular. He has to work himself up again. _Am I really doing this? Am I really—_ But then he grazes over petal-like lips, dips between them and finds that you’re scalding and already dripping from his ministrations. How is he supposed to be careful—how is he supposed to maintain any amount of self-control when you’re responding to him like this? Being so good for him…

Kei very carefully pushes his middle finger into your cunt, jaw dropping further when your body simply accommodates him without any issue. Your walls are like silk around his calloused digits, sucking them in further and further then allowing him to pull back out, and fuck fuck fuck he wishes that was his cock, god, he wishes—

Another finger added, and Kei is canting his hips into your ass. He’s painfully hard and leaking precum into his boxers. If he could just—if you would let him—

His head feels heavy, like he’s dizzy despite laying down, and that sensation doesn’t go away even as he pulls his fingers from you. In fact, it gets even worse because you let out this pitiful little noise akin to a whimper and push back against Kei as if seeking him out, his fingers, his touch. 

Mouth literally watering, Kei pauses for a moment. His heart is hammering so hard in his chest, he’s sure the vibration and echo will wake you up. Blood pounds in his ears as he snakes his hand between the two of you, pulling himself free of his boxers with a caution he’s a little impressed he even still possesses at this point. 

The thought of needing lube comes and goes, a silent curse that turns to glee when he rubs the head of his cock between your legs, wetting it with your arousal. You are more than ready to take him, thighs spreading in another subconscious movement that excites Kei. 

He’s almost positive you’ll wake up when he slides into you. There’s no way you won’t, even if he only uses shallow thrusts, the stretch of his cock will be enough to rouse you. 

Kei wonders how well he’ll be able to imitate his brother’s voice. Hopefully, you’ll stay facing forward, never seeing Kei’s face and passing right back out when he’s finished with you, but… There’s a huge risk. 

Still, Kei isn’t thinking straight as he pushes into your heat, sheathing only his head as his breath catches in his throat. You feel so good— _fuck_ , you feel so good, tight little pussy squeezing him in just the right way. He feels swollen inside of you, ready to burst, but he can’t blow his load so early, can’t waste this opportunity. 

You soak the tip of Kei’s dick, making the slide easy, so easy that he pushes in a little further just like he told himself not to. Your walls flutter around him, making way for each inch of his cock until he can’t move in any further. He can feel his tip kissing your fucking cervix, and god, he wants to take you, wants to fuck you hard and deep, leave bruises on your hips, make sure you feel him for days. 

What would Akiteru think if he found out his little brother had spoiled you? What will _you_ think when you wake up with Kei’s cum dripping from your dirty cunt? 

He won’t last long with thoughts like that, the image of you leaking with him, oh fuck oh fuck oh—

“Aki—” he hears you murmur groggily, making Kei’s stomach flip, yet he can’t help the smirk that spreads across his lips. _No._ No, not your precious Aki. 

He expects you’ll be upset no matter who is behind you, though. Even if it was your boyfriend, fucking you when you’re doped up on meds is unacceptable behavior. In fact, it’s considered rape by most people. Kei should probably run, slip out and dash for the door, but he’s already here, and you’re pushing back against him—greedy little whore—so Kei doesn’t run. Instead, he reaches over your hip, dips a finger between your folds and feels the way your hole is stretched around him, the smooth skin of his own cock as it glides in and out, god, you feel so good for him, take him so well, and you clench around him when he starts gently rubbing your clit. Baby, you’re so swollen, so ready to cum already, and you lean your head back to rest against Kei’s shoulder as you moan for him. 

“Mm, fuck, Aki, feel so—" 

Your breath hitches as you buck into Kei’s hand, and he can’t help but whisper in your ear, "Feel so what?" 

You shouldn’t be able to recognize his voice when it’s so quiet, and you don’t, just keep meeting his thrusts, grinding against him until you whimper, _"Big._ Feel so big tonight.“.

Kei preens at the subtle praise—he knows he’s much taller than his older brother, but apparently that isn’t the only way he’s larger than him. He wonders if Akiteru even satisfies you when he fucks you, if you’ll be disappointed when you have to return to his smaller cock. 

"You’re taking me so well, though,” he breathes into your ear, holding back a moan when you clamp down around him. He can see the rise of your cheek as you smile lazily, wishes he had a better view of it, but he doesn’t want to risk turning your face to meet his. Instead, he just repeats, “So well." 

He speeds up some, massaging your clit in quick circles, and you choke out a thick, "Oh, _god_." 

You’re obviously still groggy, only able to roll your hips into his and moan, and you’re beautiful, so beautiful, dripping all over Kei’s cock and reaching a weak, tired arm up and behind you to wrap around the back of his head— 

Fuck. Kei’s hair has gotten longer, but it’s thicker than his brother’s, curlier, and even in your doped up state, you tense and choke on his name— _"K-Kei."_

He stills entirely, swallows, then simply confirms, "Yes." 

You crane your neck to turn your head, eyes puffy with sleep, lips parted, and he wonders… You aren’t pulling away. You aren’t screaming or crying. You're—

Kei groans when you kiss him, slow and a little sloppy, pushing your tongue into his mouth and tugging on his hair. He starts thrusting again, wets his finger in your slick and returns to rubbing your clit, and you whine, the sound only growing when he bites down on your lower lip. 

"Let me—” you pant into his mouth, “Let me turn around." 

Kei slips out of you for only a moment to allow you to twist and hook your leg over his hip. He lines himself back up, slides in slowly, and the face you make sets him on fire—jaw dropping, eyes rolling into the back of your head. He can’t believe you’re actually letting him do this, that you’re okay with it. Something must be _wrong_ with you. 

"Look at you,” Kei muses, both hands on your waist now, pulling you against him as he fucks into you. “I didn’t take you for such a slut, but here you are, taking my cock without any— _hmm_ —complaint." 

"That’s ‘cause I've—” Kei must thrust in just the right way because you throw your head back and clench around him so tightly that it makes him see stars. “Ahh, god dammit, I’ve wanted it since I got here.”

Kei laughs quietly, makes sure to keep moving in the same way. He can feel your thigh trembling against him, feel you soaking his dick and the boxer briefs he still hasn’t taken off all the way. 

“Oh yeah? Why’s that? Is Akiteru not doing enough for you? Need a better cock to satisfy you?" 

"Yes,” you hiss. 

_“Whore."_

Your mouth twitches up at the corner. You like that, nod your head and hum, "Mhmm." 

Even holding your hip, Kei is able to spread his fingers far enough to reach your clit with his thumb. You swear, nails digging into Kei’s shoulders as you use him as leverage to grind yourself down on him. 

Your brows pinch as if you’re focusing, your hips snapping faster, faster— 

"You gonna come for me?” Another little whimper. “I’m not gonna stop until you do.” He flicks over your swollen bud relentlessly, probably overstimulating you, and your leg tenses as you squeeze his cock and let out a shuddering breath. 

“God, Kei, Kei—" 

"Come on, make a mess with that slutty pussy.” You’re gasping, doing just as Kei said and gushing on his cock—"I know you want it, just like you want me to fill you up.“ Your voice is wrecked as you cry out and begin spasming, and Kei curses when you pulse around him, manages another condescending laugh. "That did it, huh? You just needed to think about me painting your fucking _insides?”_ You nod and shake and fall apart in Kei’s arms, but he isn’t finished with you yet. 

“Say it. Say you want me.”

“Fuck, I want you.”

“You want my cum.”

“I do, I do, please give me—”

Kei sucks in a sharp breath as his orgasm hits him, feels each spurt shoot out of his cock hotter than ever before, and fuck, it just keeps coming. _He_ just keeps coming. 

When he’s finally finished, loose-limbed and stoned, Kei slides out of you, pulling his hand back from between your legs, fingers coated in white. He holds them to your mouth, breathing heavy as he tells you, “When Akiteru comes back and kisses you, he better taste me on your tongue.”

You suck the digits into your mouth, cleaning them off and blinking sleepy doe-eyes at him as you do. 

“What a good little slut. I think I might do this again before you leave next week.”

He gets up shortly after, admires your debauched state and tips your chin up for a kiss that could be mistaken for innocent, then returns to his own room where he lies awake waiting for Akiteru to get back home. Kei wonders if he’ll figure it out, if he’ll find new stains on his sheets or smell Kei on you. 

There are no signs of fighting that night, but when Kei walks into the kitchen the next morning, catches your eye and smirks, Akiteru levels a stare at him that can only be described as murderous. 

He definitely knows something happened—probably doesn’t have _all_ the pieces, no real idea that Kei fucked your sweet little pussy the night before, but he has an inkling. Maybe it’ll all make sense after Kei ruins you again.


	3. Day 5: face-sitting | Reiner Braun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> modern AU setting

Reiner is pressed against your back as you unlock the door to your apartment, pushes into you to urge you through the doorway, then shuts it behind him. Spinning to face him, you accept every eager kiss he has to give you, giggling as he holds your face in his calloused hands. 

“What?” You can feel his playful smirk on your lips, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Nothing,” you murmur. “You’ve just been clingy all night. It’s cute.”

Since the two of you had left earlier that night to get drinks with your friends, Reiner has stayed glued to your side with an arm around you or a hand on your thigh. He nuzzled into your neck on more than one occasion much to the amusement of Bertholdt, Annie, and Jean, stole kisses whenever he could. It isn’t exactly odd behavior for your fiance, but it does seem strangely exaggerated tonight. 

“That’s ‘cause since we left, all I’ve been able to think about is getting you back _here._ ”

“Oh?” You tease. “Why’s that?”

Reiner methodically backs you up toward the hallway that leads to your bedroom, careful not to run you into any of the picture frames that line the narrow walls. He pushes your jacket off your shoulders and lets it fall to the ground behind you, catches you easily when you nearly trip over the material and chuckles. 

“Just been horny all day,” he grumbles. Such a simple answer. But good enough for you. 

You both undress, kicking clothes into a pile at the foot of your bed, then Reiner is pushing you down on the mattress and covering you with his bulky frame. He leaves a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck, pausing every so often to leave marks, then moves to your breasts, your stomach, nips at each of your hip bones and grins wolfishly when you squirm from the ticklish sensation. 

He pauses for a moment, just stares at your pussy and bites his bottom lip. You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying not to wriggle out of impatience, but you’re _ready_. He’s worked you up into a frazzled mess just like he always does, made you completely desperate for him, and you spread your legs a little further in hopes that he’ll get the picture, but instead…

“Hey—” Reiner’s voice is gruff, and when you meet his eyes, you see just how large his pupils are, blown wide with lust, overtaking gold. “Sit on my face.”

Your jaw drops slightly, body heating to dangerous temperatures as you nod, unable to form any other response.

That grin is back on his handsome face—crooked, _excited_ , and Reiner scrambles to lay back on the bed, reaches for you as if to help you get situated. When you turn to sit facing the end of the bed, though, he corrects you— “No, turn to the wall.”

“Why?”

“So you have something to brace yourself on.” He laughs deep in his chest then carefully pulls one of your thighs over his head, that self-satisfied chuckle turning to a groan as you lower yourself. “Fuck, you’re so _pretty_ , baby.”

Your fingers curl on the wall, and a high pitched gasp leaves your throat when he runs his tongue between your folds. You jolt, curse, then feel his arms lock around your thighs. 

Reiner has always been talented with his mouth, whether he’s talking shit to his friends or eating you out, he’s god damn masterful. You quickly understand why he wanted you facing the wall as you hold yourself up, hips moving on their own accord as he fucks you with his tongue, a few deep strokes before he swirls around your clit. He sucks at the little bud then each of your lips, and you wonder how he’s even _breathing_. You’re making a mess, you know, but the idea that it’s all dripping down Reiner’s face just turns you on more. 

He grunts and moans beneath you, as if he’s getting just as much pleasure from this as you are, and you begin to feel that pressure build inside of you. Your toes tingle, heat traveling up your legs as Reiner shoves his tongue back inside your clenching hole. He presses his nose against your clit in just the right way until you’re panting and dragging your nails down the wall.

You sing his name, feel the vibration of his own hum against you as you fall into your orgasm. It’s _so good_ , a slow build that washes over you in warm waves, leaves you panting and shivering. Your legs are weak on either side of Reiner’s face, and you’re not sure if you’re even going to be able to _dismount_ , but it doesn’t really matter. As soon as you try to lift yourself up, his fingers dig into your thighs again, keeping you in place as he starts licking into you again.

Whining, you brace yourself and hang your head. Reiner pulls away from your soaking pussy to place a kiss on the inside of your leg, sounds extremely smug when he questions, “What, did you think you’d call the shots since you’re on top?” 

_“Mm, n-no.”_

“Yes, you did.” He nips at your sensitive skin once before turning his face back to your dripping cunt and resuming his efforts.

Reiner coaxes two more orgasms from you. By the time he finally lets you go, you simply slide to the side to collapse on the mattress beside him. He’s breathing almost as heavily as you are, broad chest rising and falling, and his face is absolutely covered in your slick juices. 

Looking at you from the corner of his eyes, he licks his lips then smirks. 

_“Yum.”_


	4. Day 6: age difference | Enji Todoroki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is some fluffy shit.

“You’re pouting.”

“I am _not_ pouting.”

“Yes, you are! You’re definitely pouting!”

Enji grunts as he unlocks the door to his house, stepping aside to give you just enough room to slide inside before following after.

“It wasn’t even that bad,” you call out as you shed your pea-coat, hanging it on the coat rack, then getting to work on your heels.

_Not that bad,_ you say.

Tonight had been the first time Enji had met your parents, something you insisted he do if he wanted his _involvement_ with you to continue. As a man who values tradition, he understands. As a man who values _you_ , he understands. As a man who values image and what it might look like to be dating someone as young as you… He does _not_ understand.

Because there is a gap—nearly 20 years—and though Enji had been aware of it before, it had never been shoved so forcefully down his throat until this evening.

_“Really?”_ He rolls his eyes in a way that would give you a run for your money, but your responding grin makes his own lips twitch upward. “Tell me, what was your favorite part, then? Was it when you were the only one who got carded when ordering wine, or was it when your father told me he appreciated me lending you a _guiding hand?_ ”

You snort, nodding your head as if to agree, _yeah, that did happen, didn’t it?_ Still, once your heels are off and you’re staring up at Enji, there is nothing but pure amusement and joy in your gorgeous eyes. It makes Enji’s stomach flip. That’s a feeling he’s still getting used to—the juvenile butterflies, that child-like giddiness. You excite him, have since the moment he first saw you.

“You’re laughing at me,” he states, and now he knows he _is_ pouting, bottom lip pushed out just enough for you to reach up and catch it with a finger. He snaps his teeth, causing you to yank your hand back and giggle in that way he loves so much, and then you’re against his chest, trying your best to wrap your arms around Enji’s broad frame.

“I’d _never_ laugh at you,” you assure him, nuzzling right into one of his pecs. You sigh in a dreamy sort of way, and Enji assumes you just took in a breath full of his cologne, the brand that makes you all but drool. “Unless you deserved it, of course.”

“Brat.”

He actually hears your lips part, mouth opening with a comeback that apparently dies in your throat because it never reaches his ears.

“Oh? No snarky retort?”

“Nothing you’d like,” you mutter, and a laugh rumbles from Enji’s chest. “Besides, it really could have been a lot worse.”

He peers down at you, trailing fingers down your arm as he lifts an eyebrow. “I fail to see how.”

Then, that mischief is dancing in your gaze again—bright, _testing_ —and you cluck your tongue before shrugging, “You could have reached for the salt when I asked my _Daddy_ to pass it to me.”

Groaning, Enji steps back. That embarrassment from earlier washes over him again, and he scrubs a hand down his face, recalling the moment you’re referring to. His cheeks are burning, hot with something other than his quirk, and you must see it because you start to snicker then stand on your tiptoes to press your palm against his cheek.

“You almost did, didn’t you?”

“My hand may have twitched,” he admits grumpily.

Another undignified snort sounds from your throat, but you shake your head as you lean up to kiss Enji. He allows it, lets his shoulders relax as tension eases its way from his body. He hadn’t realized how stressed out he had been about this dinner until he had actually arrived at the restaurant with you. Hell, he had been _nervous_ about it, had to wipe his hand before shaking your father’s just to get rid of the clamminess.

Then the meal itself had been an ordeal, so many questions—some passive aggressive, some simply bewildered—and, though it was never asked, Enji is well aware of what your parents really wanted to know: _why are you interested in our daughter?_

He had worried through the entire hour and a half about what he would say if they had questioned his motives, but now…

Now it’s just the two of you, and your body is fitting so perfectly against his. He can lift you without any issue. Your legs fit around his waist perfectly, spread wide to accommodate his size but squeezing as he walks to his bedroom, hands kneading your ass while he moves.

That little whimper you let out when he lowers you to the mattress. The way you stare at him with lust-blown eyes while he undresses. The way you gasp when he sinks a finger into your wet pussy…

His name sounds like heaven on your lips—and god, how long it had taken to get you to actually start calling him by it. You feel like temptation and salvation rolled into one as you arch your body into his. You are _perfect_ for him, give just as good as you get, meeting him with every thrust, every scalding kiss, every _thing_ you have in you.

It’s like this every time. Enji falls into a different world with you, gets completely and utterly lost in you.

It isn’t just in the bedroom that it happens, though. Everything about you is enthralling. You are beautiful and sexy, yes, but you are also brilliant and talented and driven. You’re more stubborn than anyone Enji has ever met before, willing to fight to the death for your beliefs, for yourself, and have no problem whatsoever standing up to him. It’s as admirable as it is maddening.

Enji is _weak for you_. There’s no other way to put it.

By the time the two of you are nothing more than a panting, sweaty mass of limbs on Enji’s mattress, this thought plays over in his mind once again. Weak for you. That’s what it is.

He supposes he could tell your parents something to that effect if they ever decide to ask the loathsome question, but then… Maybe letting them think it’s all just physical attraction is the easier route at this point. What would they truly think if a man his age told them he was genuinely, _painfully_ in love with their younger daughter?

You hum into Enji’s neck, a noise of pure contentment that makes him feel terrible, wonderful things for you, and he figures your parents are a problem for another day.

“So,” you begin, voice thick with fatigue. “When do I get to meet your kids?”

Enji chokes on absolutely nothing, turns his head to cough, then grumbles when he hears you begin to giggle uncontrollably.


	5. Day 7: praise | Keishin Ukai

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am very very behind

Hands trail down your body, the pads of his fingers calloused from years of sports, of setting and spiking, of high-fives and and slaps on the back. They are rough, and yet, as they run over your prickling skin, they are so, so gentle. 

Keishin hums where he hovers over you, a deep, appreciative noise that makes a pleasant shiver run down your spine.

“So pretty, baby,” he mutters, an extra layer of gravel to his voice. His lips find your collarbone, and he speaks again, “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

More heat floods your cheeks. You’ve been dating Keishin for close to a year now, but still on nights like this, when he’s in such an _appraising_ mood, you still blush like a schoolgirl. 

He noses at the space just under your ear, and goosebumps spread over every inch of you. Panting, you tilt your head to catch him in a kiss. He smiles into it, lips curving upward just before he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Keishin grinds his pelvis into yours, still clothed in boxer-briefs that feel coarse on your dripping pussy. He’s rock hard, rubbing his covered cock over your folds, soaking the already clingy material in your juices.

“So wet already,” he grins–a satisfied somewhat devious smile that makes your stomach flip.

“That’s ‘cause I—” you moan as his cock presses against your clit, sending a shock of pleasure down your spine. “—’cause I’m ready for you.”

“Yeah?” He breathes, placing kisses down your neck. “You sure about that?”

_“Mhmm.”_ As if to further your point, you spread your legs wider for him, bucking your hips into his.

It pulls a chuckle from Keishin, but he nods. “Okay, baby girl. Just a second.”

He stands to rid himself of his boxers, looks to have every intention of giving you exactly what you want until his greedy eyes run down your desperately trembling frame and settle between your legs. Keishin actually licks his lips, glances to your face for just a moment, then he tells you, “Let me do one more thing.”

You giggle as he kneels on the floor, pulling you by your calves until you’re hanging off the edge of the mattress. Your legs are draped over Keishin’s shoulders, and for a moment, he just stares. His hot breath ghosts over your drooling pussy, and you wriggle on the mattress, growing more impatient by the second.

“Fuck, you have such a pretty pussy.” He spreads you with his thumbs as your skin erupts in flames, a whimper escaping your throat. A soft kiss is placed right on your swollen clit, making you jolt upward, then Keishin is laving over it with his tongue, his groan vibrating around the hypersensitive little bud. 

He licks into you, then around your entrance, forcing his tongue as deep as he can manage while he makes all manner of obscene noises, slurping and smacking and moaning, then grunting out a reverent, “Taste so good, too.”

You are _shaking_ on the bed, jaw open as your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can feel slick dripping down your thighs and ass, no doubt coating Keishin’s mouth and chin, and when one of his fingers is pushed inside your needy pussy, you know you’re done for. 

It doesn’t take long for you to fall apart, Keishin’s skilled mouth working your clit as he massages that spongy spot inside of you. You cry out, walls pulsing as you arch and beg him to fuck you through it.

“Sh, sh, I’ve got you, baby, yeah just like that, cream on my fingers.”

You shiver, give him everything you’ve got before huffing and melting into the mattress. Keishin pulls his hand back, licks it clean, then leans over you. You can feel the tip of his leaking cock pushing against your messy entrance, just barely nudging through that ring of muscle, and Keishin inhales sharply as he cants his hips forward.

“Good girl,” he praises, giving a few shallow thrusts and overstimulating you. “Such a good girl. Take me so well, fuck, I’m not gonna last long. You feel so good wrapped around my cock.”

And, he’s right; he doesn’t last much longer, apparently too worked up from all the attention he’d lavished on you. When he comes, Keishin throws his head back and groans your name, his tan chest heaving with every deep breath he takes until he falls forward and kisses you sloppily. 

“Mm, love you so much.” His words are muffled against your lips, but they still make you smile.

“I love you too. Big sap.”

Keishin chuckles and slowly pulls out of you, causing you both to hiss. 

He rolls to lay beside you, then turns his head to face you. “Only for you, doll.”


	6. Day 8: breeding | Miche Zacharias

Miche knows this is a bad idea. He’s known for a while now. _Don’t get attached,_ he had told himself. Getting attached would be useless, dangerous even. Heartbreaking. 

And yet, ever since he saw you in that little shop within Wall Sina, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. The image of you, so beautiful and kind as you had pointed out your favorite and most high-end soaps and lotions, paired with the general pleasant aroma of the small store, was enough to leave his head spinning for days. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. 

So, he went back under the guise of needing a gift. Again. And, again. And, again. Each time, you spoke with him a little more, sharing short anecdotes, not minding that all he did was nod and offer small smiles. Miche’s always been a quiet man, but he found himself especially tongue-tied when around you. 

An interest turned to an infatuation, one he tried to deny with no success. Even Erwin asked what had him so distracted, the Commander looking a little too _knowing_ when all Miche had lied, “Nothing." 

The following expedition opened Miche’s eyes, though, having suffered too many losses and getting a little too close to death himself, close to massive swinging arms and chomping teeth. 

So, when he got back into the walls and returned to the capitol with Erwin to give the brass a full report, he stopped by the soap shop once more, relieved to find you working. Your eyes had lit up upon seeing him, crooked smile making Miche’s stomach flip, and he took a deep breath before asking—more like demanding—"Join me tonight.”

There was no argument, no hesitation, just a simple, “Yes,” paired with a giddy grin. 

And, like that, it began. 

Now, Miche spends every moment he can with you, remaining in the capitol military barracks not far from the market so that he can walk you home every day. You always invite him inside, apparently enjoying the way he watches you cook and compliment every dish you make. He walks up behind you, breathing in steam and spice and a little bit of you. You always smell nice, like lavender and rosemary. The slightest whiff gets Miche drunk, a little loose, a little bold. 

One day he puts a hand on the small of your back as he leans over the pot you’re stirring. You let him. 

Next time, he holds your waist, the next your hips, then you’re turning in his grasp and getting to your tip-toes, and Miche groans quietly when he stoops low and presses his lips against yours. 

You’re both feverish and fervent, your shaking hands greedy as you hold his face. Miche lifts you smoothly, setting you on your own countertop to stand between your legs. It’s all gasps and sloppy kissing, tongues tangling, lips swelling with every nip and suck, and each of your tiny moans echo in Miche’s ears until he can’t take it anymore. 

He lifts you again, and you wrap your legs around his waist, making him pause when you breathe out, “Wait, the stove.” You reach back to turn it off, then face him once more. 

Miche has a vague idea where your bedroom is in the small house, walking both of you back to it and grinning when he lowers you to the bed. 

The first time it’s quick and desperate. You arch your back, scratching down Miche’s with pointed nails that leave streaks of welts on his skin. It stings, but it’s good, just makes him thrust harder, faster, pulling groans and whimpers and pleas from your kiss swollen lips. 

He forces himself to pull out, spilling white on your stomach as he fists his cock almost violently. Miche breathes heavily for a moment, watching the way your chest rises and falls, tempting him until he has to lean forward and suck one of your nipples into his mouth. You cry out his name, tangling a hand in his shaggy hair and begging when Miche reaches down to play with your clit. 

You tremble and squirm and buck your hips, then seize up, eyes going wide as you reach your climax. Miche slides a long finger into your pussy, reveling in the way it contracts around him as he fucks you through every wave of your orgasm. 

When you finally go slack, Miche litters your chest with wet kisses then rests his head against it, listening as your racing heart begins to slow. 

He stays the night. He wakes up next to you. He falls in love. 

It’s both beautiful and horrifying. Being a Scout means putting his life on the line. Every time he leaves the walls, Miche has to make peace with himself. This could be it. This could be the end. Before, he only had his friends to lose. Now, he has you. 

And, as you grow closer, his love grows bigger—his wants and needs and urges. Miche wants to marry you, to settle down. For the first time since joining, he considers leaving the military or possibly transferring to the interior. Erwin would surely understand, though he’d be disappointed. 

Miche fights it, though. The fear, the thought that it could all be over in a flash. One wrong move, one ODM malfunction. That’s all it would take. 

But, he can’t leave you alone. He refuses to. He’ll fight like hell every expedition, but if his time comes, he’d like to leave you with something, a part of him, a perfect combination of the two of you, a—

“How do you feel about kids?" 

You blink at Miche, eyebrows high, but through your obvious surprise, you answer, "I like them. Would like to have one at some point. Maybe two or three." 

Miche sucks on the inside of his cheek, closes his eyes for just a moment as the image of you pregnant and glowing flashes through his mind. He already knows you’d be so beautiful, radiant, a fucking goddess. 

"Do you want them?" 

He chuckles through his nose and leans back in his chair. "Wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t interested." 

The two of you stare at each other from across the table, a new heated tension rising between you. Then, you’re both scooting back in your chairs and all but lunging forward. It’s almost always like this. Yes, there have been evenings where you both go slow, when Miche worships every part of you and works you up until you’re begging him to fuck you, but tonight isn’t one of those night. Though, there _is_ still begging. 

When Miche pushes into you, you both breathe in something close to relief. He starts a deep, steady rhythm, watching his cock stretch your little hole, admiring the way you take his length over and over, god, you’re so perfect, soft and wet and ready to be bred. He’s hungry for you, already feels heat crawling up his back, his neck. His gut tightens with need, pre dripping from him and already smearing inside you as if to prepare you for what’s to come. 

"Fuck, Miche,” you pant, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him impossibly close. His tip must be bruising your cervix, pressing into it over and over and making Miche groan into your neck. 

He bites the damp skin, teeth sinking in deep enough to make you whine, but it’s like music to his ears. He wants to mark you, wants to claim you, wants to make sure you remember this the way he will. 

His most basic instincts take over as he pistons his hips— _need to cum… need to… need to—_ and you’re keening for him, your chest against his as you move together. You’re slippery with sweat, both yours and his, and when Miche looks down again, he sees his cock coated with white already. 

He huffs into you, breathing you in, lavender and herbs that mix with your natural scent. It makes him salivate. You smell so good, so right, like you’re meant to be his. You surround him, smother him in the best of ways. Miche’s mind is swimming—no, _drowning_ , helpless in a sea of you with only enough sense to keep moving, keep pumping until—

“Fuck, fuck, I’m about to—”

“Please, yes, please,” you nearly sob.

Miche’s usual stoicism shatters, leaves his body along with an animalistic grunt that rumbles from his throat. 

“You want it?” You nod frantically, eyes rolling, jaw dropping as your pussy drools around him. “You want me to pump you full of cum?" 

_"Yesss, please,”_ you slur, words elongated as you lose your focus.

Turning his face to speak into your ear, Miche asks one more question, his voice low and breathy. “You want me to breed you?" 

"Fuck, yes. I’m yours, please, please…" 

He bites down at the junction of your neck and shoulder, leaving yet another mark as he peaks. Each line of cum is hotter than the last, and he suddenly sits back on his knees, pulling your hips up to meet his as he watches the way his seed starts dribbling out of your used hole. Reaching down, Miche gathers the fluid on his thumb before pushing the digit inside of you alongside his cock. 

You whine at the stretch but take it, bucking wildly when he raises his other hand and massages your clit. Your chest heaves, pussy spasming around him, and then you fall. 

Miche swears quietly as you milk his cock with every pulse of your orgasm, leaving him twitching inside of you, wrung out and sensitive. 

Still, he remains inside, acting as a plug while both of you come down from your highs. Exhausted and intoxicated, he can’t help but rub calloused fingers over your belly. He’s barely lucid as he envisions what it’ll look like swollen with his child, pride welling up in his chest despite the fact that there’s no way to tell so early on. 

It doesn’t matter. He’ll fill you up as many times as it takes.


	7. Day 9: orgasm denial | Hitoshi Shinsou

You tremble uncontrollably on the sheets, arms knotted above your head, legs spread and tied to the bedposts, every muscle in your body spasming. A sheen of sweat covers your skin, but you can’t focus on that sticky feeling—can’t focus on anything. You are a blank slate, full of nothing but a faint buzz and his deep voice echoing in the deepest recesses of your mind— _"Don’t come.”_

And, that’s all it had taken. Over an _hour_ ago. Hitoshi had tied you up, placed a vibrator between your legs, asked if you were okay, and once you answered, _“Yes,”_ he had put you under.

It’s what you had agreed on, the two of you having discussed this in depth for days before actually committing to it. You were prepared for him to use his Quirk, and you’re prepared for the aftermath. You think you are, anyway.

Hitoshi hovers over you, bracing himself on hands and knees as he stares down at your face—your unfocused eyes, how your mouth opens and closes almost rhythmically, the way your nostrils flare with each shallow breath you take. Your chest rises in time with them, and he puts a hand on it to feel your hummingbird heart. 

There is a molten tension between your hips, scalding you from the inside out. You can vaguely feel slick dripping from you, wetting the sheets beneath you, but you don’t care, can’t care. It is physically impossible for you to do anything except sit there and _take it_. 

Hitoshi touches your cheek, thumb stroking the swell of it while he uses two fingers to wipe away what you realize are tears streaming down toward your temples. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he rumbles, voice deep, just enough to pierce through the fog of his own Quirk. “Just a little longer. I’ve got you.”

You don’t actually know how long _‘just a little longer_ ’ is. It could have been mere minutes. It could have been another hour. All you know is you’re sore from straining, your clit is throbbing, and you’re _burning_ , ready to explode.

When Hitoshi finally lifts his Quirk, he rests his forehead against yours and breathes over your lips, “Okay, kitten, you can come now.”

You _snap_. Back arching, you let out a wounded groan. Your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your tongue lolls in your mouth. And, you gush.

Every crest of your orgasm is massive, tidal waves of sensation so close to painful that your skin crawls. The muscles in your legs seize up further as your toes curl, and you very quickly begin to kick your feet as best you can as the vibrator continues to stimulate your swollen clit.

_“Tosh—Toshi, please, please—”_ Your voice is thick with tears, and Hitoshi is quick to turn the toy off and gently pull it further from your sensitive skin.

You let out a sob, shaking with every aftershock, and Hitoshi moves to lay on his side next to you. He reaches up to work at the double column tie around your wrists, nuzzling his nose into your neck as he does.

“It’s okay, let it out, love,” he tells you, and you do. Sniffling and sucking in deep breaths as your heart begins to slow. “I’m right here.”

As soon as your hands are free, you’re clutching at him, pulling him closer despite the fact that your entire body feels like an exposed nerve. Hitoshi runs a calloused hand down your side, knows you well enough to use just a little bit of pressure rather than the feather light touches he previously littered you with. The weight of his palm resting under your ribcage is enough to ground you, his fingernails gently scraping over your stomach, and like that you begin to come down. 

It takes you some time before you allow him to move and untie your legs. He massages each ankle carefully, rolling both of them slowly to work out some of the soreness, then slides back up your body to place a few kisses on your chest, neck, lips. 

“Doing okay, baby?” He questions, eyebrows raised.

You extend a weak hand to card through his haphazard purple hair, show a small, tired smile, then nod. “Yeah. Just…”

“Won’t be doing that again any time soon?” One side of his mouth lifts in a smirk.

Letting out a tiny snort, you shake your head then move to sit up. Already, you can feel an ache in your abdominals, know you’re going to be extremely sore tomorrow from having stayed so tense for so long. 

“Definitely not.”

Hitoshi helps you off the bed, wraps one strong arm around you as he walks you to the bathroom. He turns the water on, filling the tub with steaming water and pouring some Epsom salt in, then strips and lowers himself into it, holding a hand out to help you.

You hiss at the heat but settle comfortable between his legs, resting against his chest and sighing contentedly. 

“Was the orgasm good at least?” Hitoshi’s nose runs up the side of your neck. You shiver at the sensation but still grin, feeling weaker and more worn out than you possibly ever have.

“Best I’ve ever had. Thank you.”

Chuckling, Hitoshi places a kiss just below your ear, and murmurs a low, “Glad to be of service.”


	8. Day 12: multiple | Kita & the Miya twins

“Have you ever thought about…” Your voice rouses Shinsuke from whatever vegetable he’s chopping on the counter, and he looks over at you with a thoughtful smile when you don’t continue. 

“Thought about what?" 

You nibble on your bottom lip, feel your heart pick up pace as you consider how to ask what you want to know. "Um, just…” Sucking in a deep breath, you brace yourself. “Bringing anyone else into the bedroom..?" 

Your boyfriend is quiet for a moment, and your stomach rolls at the idea that he might be upset with you for even suggesting such a thing, but then…

"Funny you should ask that, actually." 

Which is how you end up walking hand-in-hand with Shinsuke up to a vaguely familiar apartment building. You’ve been only once before to celebrate his birthday, a small get together among friends, old teammates. You were unaware that you had made a good enough impression for two of them to want…

"Nervous?” Shinsuke asks as you climb the steps to the second story together. 

“Little bit. I don’t really know them, so it’ll be interesting for sure.”

“I _do_ know them, though,” he reminds you, giving your hand a squeeze as he stops in front of a door. “They’re good guys. Promise.”

He raises a fist to knock, but before he can, the door swings open, revealing a tall man with a blond undercut and an excited expression. “Hey! Heard you talkin’, so uh, come in! Come in!" 

Stepping to the side, he allows you and Shinsuke to enter, your boyfriend casually telling you, "You remember Atsumu,” to which you nod because how could you forget _that_ game of beer pong? 

“Yeah, yeah, make yourselves comfortable! Uh, refreshments? Water, snacks—”

“‘tsumu, cut it out. You’re freakin’ 'em out,” a man nearly identical to the blond saunters in front the hallway. His hair is darker, bangs brushed to the opposite side than his brother’s, and his eyes are hooded, unimpressed. 

Shinsuke chuckles, gesturing forward to him. “And, Osamu.”

“Yeah,” you show a tight lipped smile and a tiny wave. “Hello." 

The corner of Osamu’s mouth briefly lifts in a smirk, but all he does is nod to you in acknowledgement while stepping forward to clasp hands with Shinsuke, greeting, "Captain.”

“Not your captain anymore,” he reminds.

“Aw, bullshit!” Atsumu exclaims. “You’ll always be our captain!” His enthusiasm is cute. You hope it’ll last. 

Despite Shinsuke’s denial of authority, it’s he who prompts, “So, we can do one of two things,” gaining everyone’s full attention as he holds out a finger. “One, we can go grab somethin’ to eat, get this one—” he nods to you, “—a little better acquainted with you two…" 

"Or?" 

"Or, we can just go ahead n’ get started." 

The twins’ eyebrows both raise in interest at the second suggestion, and you feel butterflies swarm in your stomach, their little wings only flapping harder when three pairs of eyes look to you. 

"Well, I think _she_ should probably be the one to decide,” Osamu says, and god, why did you think this was a good idea? On one hand, you are definitely ready to start the evening, if for no other reason than to get rid of the nerves, but on the other hand, you don’t want to seem too desperate. 

“Uh, I mean, I’m good with either…”

“Baby,” Shinsuke turns to you. “You choose.”

About thirty seconds later, the four of you—fuck, there’s _four_ of you—are in a bedroom, gray walls, black sheets, a couple posters framed and hanging of people and shapes you can barely make out in your slightly dizzy state. You’re dizzy, right? Light-headed, breathing a little too quickly, not deep enough, god, you didn’t think you’d be this nervous.

“Hey,” Shinsuke gently grips your chin, angling your face up to meet his. “Look at me.” You blink. “Are you okay with this?”

The shuffling behind you stops entirely, but as soon as you nod and manage out a quiet, “Yes,” a whispered, _“Bet,”_ sounds from behind you, and there are hands on your ass. Hands that do not belong to your boyfriend, unfamiliar fingers kneading and making you gasp just in time for Shinsuke to catch you in a tender kiss.

Lips on the side of your neck, trailing down to your shoulder, that foreign hold gliding up to your waist and under your shirt as one of the twins rocks against you. He’s already hard, and it makes you break out in goosebumps.

“Like a fuckin’ dog,” the other one, Osamu you think, voices on the other side of the room, closer to the bed.

Atsumu grinds into you, growls a shameless, “Damn, straight,” into your neck, then begins to lift your shirt.

You break away from Shinsuke and hold your arms above your head, body heating when you catch your boyfriend’s gaze as he helps rid you of your top. Two men undressing you… And another one waiting.

You can’t help but glance over Shinsuke’s shoulder to the dark-haired twin, now in only his joggers and pushing his duvet to the floor to make room for you, for all of you. He looks good, tall and toned, and you’re positive Atsumu will have mirroring physique. Of course.

Shirt on the ground, Shinsuke easily works the front clasp of your bra, looks at you in silent permission before releasing it and tugging the straps from your shoulders. Osamu stops what he’s doing, eyebrows a little higher on his forehead but still wearing a mostly apathetic expression while his brother actually leans against you to stare down at your tits.

“Fuck yeah,” Atsumu laughs more than says, eager hands moving to cup warm flesh. It’s odd, feeling another man’s hands on you like this, and you think it might be strange for Shinsuke to witness because you catch the slightest glimmer of something in his beautiful eyes, possession, jealousy, something darker than you’re used to seeing, but it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by care and possible concern—he wants you to have a good time. You know that. He’s going to be on guard all evening.

A shallow moan slips passed your lips when Atsumu rolls one of your nipples between two of his fingers, but before you can get too lost in the sensation, Osamu lets out a short whistle and points to the now clear bed.

“I mean, unless y’all just wanna stay standin’…”

“No, no, bed’s good,” you huff, walking over on shaky legs.

Shinsuke takes the time to strip down, leaving his clothes in a small pile as Atsumu follows you to the mattress you lower yourself onto. You turn to crawl toward the pillows and nearly jolt in surprise when you look back and find the other twin climbing up after you, face blank but eyes dark and depthless and trained on you.

“I—Hi,” you say dumbly, brain going haywire as he takes you in.

Osamu smirks, “Hey,” before dipping his head to kiss you. It’s slow, experienced but still unsure. He doesn’t have the same confidence s his brother. No, that isn’t right. He has the confidence, it’s just different. Where Atsumu is ready to throw himself into you with no preamble, Osamu wants to learn first, wants to feel you out, learn what will make you tick.

He licks into your mouth lazily, a large hand trailing up your side, his touch making you squirm and whimper beneath him. A finger catches your nipple, and you groan, arching into him then lamenting the loss when he keeps moving until he presses the V between his thumb and forefinger gently over your throat.

You feel your eyes widen before they roll into the back of your head, a wide smile spreading across your face, breaking your kiss, and Osamu chuckles as he pulls away. He straightens, moves back and makes quick work of your pants. Nerves finally overtaken by arousal, you watch through half-open eyes as he hooks two fingers into your lacy panties, pulling them down over your hips and thighs, then tossing them over his shoulder only for them to be caught by Atsumu who quickly shoves his nose into them and inhales deeply.

Your stomach flips, body heating horribly, but you giggle when Shinsuke notices and quickly snatches your underwear from the taller man and smacks him on the back of the head.

“Animal,” he mutters, then lifts a hand and motions to you, commanding Osamu, “Get her to the edge of the bed,” and before you can move yourself, Osamu is handling you like a fucking doll, gripping your thighs and tugging, only pausing to switch directions when Shinsuke adds, “Head hanging off.”

World upside-down, you blink up at your boyfriend standing completely nude and just out of reach. He smiles sweetly down at you before crouching and stroking your cheek lovingly. “You okay with blowin’ me while ‘Samu gets you ready?”

Atsumu makes a noise of protest that everybody ignores as Osamu kneels on the other side of the bed between your legs.

“Y-yeah, sounds good.”

Shinsuke nods, places a very tender kiss on your lips, pausing to nibble just long enough for you to moan against him when Osamu very quickly gets to work. Long swipes between your wet folds have you curling your toes and scratching at the sheets beneath you. You feel the subtle vibration of him humming before deft fingers spread you open, and Osamu fucks his tongue as deep into you as he can manage. At the same time, Shinsuke straightens and takes hold of his cock, giving himself a few strokes before tapping his head against your lips and guiding himself into your mouth when you allow him to.

It usually takes a few seconds for you to get used to Shinsuke’s weight on your tongue, to work up to taking him deeper, but the way Osamu is eating your pussy has you more than pliant, open, nearly drooling around your boyfriend who begins a series of shallow thrusts, edging just a little deeper each time until his tip hits the back of your throat. You barely even gag, just slurp around his cock as best you can.

“Wow, ‘Samu must be treatin’ you pretty good for you to— _fuck_ —take me like this. Think I can go deeper?” You gurgle around him in response, neither a yes nor a no because you honestly have no idea. You can’t focus on anything except for the tongue swiping over your clit incessantly, the fluid dripping from your needy hole that Osamu gathers on the tip of his finger before slowly sliding in to his last knuckle.

You groan, the noise growing strangled when Shinsuke pushes in further, just barely slipping into the sleeve of your throat before pulling back. Your eyes are rolling again, mind blank, skin on fire, and—

Someone grabs your hand, what you think to be a thoughtful gesture until your fingers are led to wrap around a sizable dick. You open bleary eyes, find Atsumu biting his lip but grinning down at you a little bashfully. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.” He winks, and if you could laugh, you would, but the cockhead in your esophagus is preventing that from happening, so all you do is begin a clumsy stroke, hoping you can keep it up as you begin to lose yourself.

The muscles in your throat flutter around Shinsuke while your thighs rhythmically tense and relax from Osamu’s ministrations. Thick digits dance inside of you, massaging your g-spot in a way that literally causes your mouth to water, in turn making the slide of your boyfriend even easier. Drool and tears run down the sides of your face, and you have no doubt that you’re making a mess on Osamu’s sheets as well, but he doesn’t seem to be complaining, just groans appreciatively when you start to squirt around his fingers.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” he mutters.

“What?” Atsumu pants. “What’s hot? Tell me, I ca—can’t see.”

“Tch. Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Uh, yeah. S’why I’m askin’.” You use your thumb to gather the precum leaking from Atsumu’s tip then slide it over the underside of his cock, pressing against his frenulum and pulling another choked swear from him. “Mm, fuck, just like that, baby. “

“She squirts,” Osamu tells his brother quietly, like he still doesn’t want to share, like it’s a secret.

“Oh, no shit?” You lose grip on Atsumu when he bounds away, toward his brother. The mattress dips, and even without looking, you can feel the new gaze upon you, burning holes into your already scorching body. “Make her do it again.”

Osamu tsks again, and the twins argue back and forth for a moment—

”This ain’t what ‘tsumu says goes.”

“I’m not saying it is!”

“How ‘bout you don’t say anything at all then.”

“How ‘bout you make her squirt again, and I’ll shut up.”

“Doubt you would.”

But the entire time they bicker, Osamu’s fingers get more insistent in fucking you, the strokes over your spot a little harder, a little longer, and then you hear, “Play with her clit if you want it so bad.”

Calloused fingertips make you squeal around Shinsuke who shushes you gently, caressing your cheek as he idly fucks into your mouth.

“Like this?”

“ _The fu_ —what do you mean _‘like this’_ , I know you’ve done it before. Fuck, wet your fingers first, you asshole.”

Atsumu does as told, returning with a much more manageable touch that makes you moan and writhe. He doesn’t seem as practiced as Osamu, but it might just have to do with his pace, his eagerness. He wants to see the show, wants to take you apart as fast as he can, and you do not disappoint because after just a couple minutes of Osamu playing you in just the right way and Atsumu doing _well enough_ , you moan and sob through a full mouth as the pressure that’s built inside you bursts again, and you gush for the two men just like they want you to.

“Hell yeah, that _is_ hot.”

Your voice, hoarse and wrecked, suddenly fills the room as Shinsuke pulls out of your mouth. You shake and swear and squeal when Atsumu flicks over your clit again only for Osamu to slap his hand away.

“Give her a second, Christ.”

Even after you catch your breath, you still don’t feel entirely in control of yourself. Shinsuke makes sure you’re okay, asks if you’re ready to move on, and you only vaguely register the nodding of your own head.

The transition is blurry, but after some shuffling, you find yourself being lowered onto Atsumu’s cock—Atsumu who is cursing with his head thrown back, who is gripping your cheeks and spreading them and giving his brother the perfect opportunity to dive between and start readying your “cute little ass” for his dick.

And, Shinsuke watches and pumps himself and smiles.

“Feel good, baby?”

_“Mmmhmmm,”_ you mewl, rocking on top of Atsumu and back into Osamu’s face.

It’s exquisite, unfamiliar veins and ridges dragging along your sensitive walls as Osamu loosens you with his tongue and fingers all over again. You quiver and cry, a slurred, _“’samu,”_ tumbling from your mouth and making him groan and sink his teeth into one of your cheeks.

“Fuck, fuck, say my name like that, sweetheart, please,” Atsumu begs, hands squeezing your tits before he shoves his face between them. “Come on, baby, please, please, you sound beautiful—”

“Ha—fuck—'tsumu, _yesss.”_

“Yes, yes,” he fucks into you roughly, bouncing you more in his lap and making his brother’s fingers hook into your ass with more force. It burns a bit, but it’s good. Everything is so, _so good_.

Atsumu doesn’t seem like he’ll be able to hold on for very long, worked into a sweat and biting his lip hard enough to bruise. When Osamu slowly begins to guide his length into your needy hole, you end up clenching hard around both cocks, and that’s what does the blond in.

“Oh, fuck, squeezin’ me so—” He ruts up into you, and Osamu holds you carefully in place, a strong arm around your waist as to not jostle you too much on his own only half-sheathed dick while his brother pistons his hips and eventually spills his load into your messy pussy.

Red-cheeked and panting, Atsumu sits up just enough to kiss you lazily, a little high and very sloppy as his tongue runs over yours. It’s a good distraction as Osamu begins pushing into you again, slowly but surely stretching your asshole with every inch he gives you. When he bottoms out, he grunts out a quiet, “Christ,” then rests his head against your shoulder.

Beneath you, Atsumu carefully pulls out and pushes at you gently while telling his brother, “’samu, lean back so I can get out. Give our captain a chance with his girl.”

Osamu sits back on his knees, moving you with him, and you gasp as he’s somehow shoved even deeper inside you. You swear you can feel him _everywhere._

One of his large hands strokes over your belly and you whimper at the minimal pressure, _oh, it feels like you could explode, you’re so—_

“Full tummy, hm?” Osamu asks knowingly, voice deep and directly in your ear. You nod, chewing on your bottom lip, then lock eyes with Shinsuke as he takes Atsumu’s place, lying on his back and reaching for you.

Everyone is a little clumsy, your boyfriend desperate to be inside you while you and Osamu try to move together. Eventually, you’re able to sink onto Shinsuke’s flushed cock, though, and he fits so perfectly inside you, so right, like he belongs even after you’ve already been spoiled with another man’s cum. Even as you’re being fucked by another, he is _perfect_ for you.

Shinsuke and Osamu work silently together to create a rhythm that benefits both of them, leaving you quaking in the middle. A song of skin on skin and wet squelches ring throughout the room, noises straight from a low budget porno echoing in your ears and only turning you on more as you are completely used by the two men.

You don’t even feel human anymore, just allowing your body to move in whatever way it needs to. Shinsuke stares up at you with blissed out eyes, reaching for your face and pulling it to his to meet in a kiss. You’re hungry for him, press your lips to his and immediately seek his tongue out, sighing dreamily when you stroke over it with your own. He smiles against you, thumb rubbing the swell of your cheek, but you break away to gasp when Osamu reaches a hand around your front, snaking it upward to wrap around your neck.

Your entire being throbs with want, the heat building within you boiling over all at once as you come around both men, muscles clenching and immediately pulling orgasms from both of them. It’s dramatic and messy, cum dripping from both your pussy and ass as the three of you all but collapse in a pile of sweaty limbs.

You pant between Shinsuke and Osamu, head swimming with fatigue and endorphins. Your boyfriend holds you close to him, toys with the hair at the nape of your neck as Osamu slowly runs his hands up and down your sore thighs.

“Oh, very romantic,” Atsumu calls out, and the three of you turn to find him entering the room with an armful of towels. “All came together and now you’re cuddlin’.”

“Don’t be jealous,” Osamu murmurs, and you giggle, extending a hand.

Atsumu assumes you’re reaching for a towel and holds one out, but you point at him then open and close your hand until he gets the picture and walks forward, stooping to your level and letting you drag him in for a kiss.

“Thank you, ‘tsumu.”

He grins sideways, and when he pulls back far enough for you to look at, you can see he’s blushing. “Me? Ha—”

“What’re you even thanking him for? He just brought towels…”

One of said towels is thrown over Osamu’s head, and you snort only to hiss when Osamu begins pulling out of you. Shinsuke hums at the contraction of your muscles around him but stays still, allowing you to lay and relax on top of him as the brothers both clean themselves up and fall into another round of bickering about god knows what.

“Have fun?” He questions quietly.

“Mhm,” you nod, then turn to nuzzle into his collarbone. “Lots. Thank you.”

Shinsuke kisses the top of your head, the silly argument between the twins fading into the background as you lay together until it stops abruptly and Atsumu claps his hands together.

“So, dinner? I know ‘samu already ate, but I’m _starved_.”


	9. Day 22: overstimulation | Mirai Sasaki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, kinktober was a big fat failure but the stuff i did finish back then was fun.

You can’t focus. It’s nothing new; you always have trouble focusing around Mirai, ever since you started working for him a couple years ago. 

But _now_ , this is something entirely different. You had made the mistake— _had it really been a mistake?_ —of complaining to your boss about having too many jumbled thoughts in your already busy brain, and after peering at you for a few seconds too long, Mirai had clucked his tongue and offered, “If you’d like, I can help you clear your mind.”

And boy, is it cleared. Nothing but nonsense syllables and _fuck fuck fuck_. Which is both lovely and unfortunate because as your stupid brain circulates only these thoughts (if they can even be called that) your mouth struggles to form the words Mirai wants you too. 

“The perp— _hah_ —perp then f-fled on foot and—and—”

“Keep going.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, jaw hanging open as you breathe in short gasps. 

“Do you want me to turn it up?" 

Eyes snapping open again, you find Mirai waving his little remote, and you shake your head. 

"Then _keep going_.”

Everyone at the agency thinks Tickle Hell is torture, but they have _no idea_. None of them have experienced this. No, you’re special. Mirai took an _interest_ in you, and though you don’t mind, having been attracted to the man from the beginning, well… Look where it’s gotten you: 

Pants off, legs spread, straddling a fucking _sybian_ as Mirai demands you read the latest incident report to him. 

Your voice shakes, just like your thighs as they tense around the machine. You’ve been close to coming for a while, but you can’t quite get there, and you don’t dare take Mirai up on his offer to turn the machine up higher, knowing well it’ll be left on the setting for longer than you’d like. 

“He fled only to be— _fuuu_ —caught by Bu-Bubble-Bubble Girl.”

“By _who?_ ” You can hear the smirk in his voice, can’t help but rock your hips as you let his amused tone wash over you. The dildo attached to the sybian rubs against your g-spot, not large but just enough to stimulate you the way you need it to. Still, it isn’t nearly as satisfying as Mirai himself. Fuck, you would much rather have him inside you, always filling you up past what you can actually take, pressing so deeply into your pussy—

“Bubble Girl ca— _guh_ —caught ‘im. _Fuck, I’m gonna come._ " 

"Go right ahead, but finish the report.”

“Ca—can’t, oh god." 

"Yes, you can. Keep talking.”

Your eyes roll as your orgasm crests, making your sopping cunt clench around the silicone inside you. You shiver violently, feel your slick cum drenching the leather beneath you all while you do your best to slur, _“She caaaught 'im innn heh—err bubble—God daaaammit.”_

“Then what happened?" 

You breathe through your teeth, thick hisses as the textured piece pressed against your clit keeps vibrating, tiny ribs and nodules close to painful and making you squirm. 

You _could_ stand up. It isn’t like you’re chained or captive, but you know Mirai would be disappointed. 

Then, punish you later with a treatment ten times worse than this one. 

"Cops got there—” you pant, eyes rolling, tongue lolling in your mouth as your gut tightens again. “Popped the bubble, but—but… _Ah_ —soon as they got cuffs on him, he broke—broke away and ran.”

“Stop paraphrasing,” Mirai drawls. “I gave you the paper so you could _read_ off of it.” You can’t even focus on his handsome face when you look at him, his sharp features blurring as you sway on the sybian. 

“I don’t think I c-can right now.”

“You don’t think you can read?” You shake your head and Mirai tuts before standing up and walking over to where you’re situated on the ground. “One orgasm in and you’re already senseless.”

“'bout to be two,” you manage out as you ride the machine, hips bucking, barely even thinking. 

Mirai crouches in front of you, balancing on the balls of his feet, long legs spread and bent at the knee. He leans forward until he’s just a couple inches from your face, studying your expression while reaching down and catching the very edge of your slit to push down on the puffy flesh, ensuring your clit is snug against the little nubs. 

You scream, immediately thrown into your second climax and held there through all of your writhing and gyrating and babbling, _“Please please too much, Mir—much much too much—”_

Mirai shuts you up with a kiss, harsh and dirty as he shoves his tongue in your mouth then begins to suck on yours, never releasing the hold he has on you. 

You heave against him, every muscle flexed and fluttering as you leak all over the machine. You know there will be a mess to clean up once this is all over, whenever that may be. 

“No more, no more, moremore—”

“More?” You can feel his devious grin against your lips, sob when the vibrations increase. 

Your clit is throbbing, pussy swollen as it clenches around the dildo, and god, oh god, it’s too much, you’re so sensitive, but that heat is building again, that delicious pressure that’s beginning to hurt…

Tears are streaming down your face, salty drops that Mirai kisses away, what would be a sweet gesture of he wasn’t forcing orgasms out of you, but his fingers are still holding your clit down, and your eyes are rolling again, and you’re pretty sure you’re drooling, but you can’t be sure because you can barely feel your own body save for the supernova bursting in your core. 

_“Ooh myyy—fuuuck.”_

“Mm, good girl, good baby girl, stop crying and just let yourself go.” He lowers his face to your neck, nosing at the prickled flesh there and sucking idly as he moves his fingers back and forth to rub your pulsing bud over the textured silicone. 

And, you do as you’re told. At this point, you don’t have a choice. Your brain is mush. You may as well be floating, barely even conscious as you go slack, letting Mirai hold you up. Your only real movement is your sloppy pussy clenching and unclenching as you’re milked of everything you have, and yet, it just keeps coming, oh god, you _can’t stop coming._

You lose count after four, just let the waves take you over and over again as you dribble all over the machine and drool on Mirai’s suit jacket. You’re not good for anything else, absolutely wrecked, and when he finally turns the machine off after lord knows how long, he takes your face in both hands and smiles fondly at you. 

“Oh, look at you now.” He shakes his head, tsks and wipes more tears from under your half-lidded eyes. “Any thoughts left in that pretty little head?" 

You open your mouth but can’t seem to form the words, not even the one ‘no’. All you can do is press your tongue to the roof of your mouth and blink slowly. 

"Mm, I didn’t think so.”


End file.
